MIT: Donatello one-shots
by Ghost-of-a-Chance-13
Summary: After their ordeal with Bishop, the Hamato clan feared the worst when the BPRD recruited them. Of course, now they've been granted citizenship like thousands of other More-Than-Human Americans, & they're protected from persecution. These oneshots focus on Donatello as he finally gets the recognition he deserves, & fights a complicated attraction to his friend & mentor Alesha Woods.
1. Tornado Warning: Don, Alesha, Splinter

Disclaimer: I most certainly do NOT own Hellboy, TMNT, or any of that other good stuff. Just borrowing them temporarily, so please don't sue me-apparently lawyers don't accept blood, sweat, tears, and cat hair as payment. Source for the cover's base image: Public domain, pdimagesDOTcomSLASHnewyorkpicsDOThtm.

A/N: This shot may be triggering for those with storm/tornado phobias, or PTSD from a natural disaster. Major profanity warning—Alesha curses like a sailor, and can be kind of...grating. Also, Elysia can be hard to understand at times—She does this ON PURPOSE. If you cannot discern what she's saying after sounding it out aloud feel free to ask in a review or PM. She adopted her 'twang' purely to confuse people, and makes a habit of changing it up on occasion to throw people off. She's a complete troll. This one-shot takes place during my unfinished "Elementals" series-part two, specifically, which is a TMNT/Hellboy crossover. Neither parts are published yet...would prefer to get more than a few CONSECUTIVE chapters done first. Darn my non-linear thinking. Anyhoo, this oneshot occurs during Alesha and Donatello's absurdly long training mission in Missouri. Constructive criticism greatly appreciated.

Y'all enjoy, and take care. :)

 _Dedicated to the numberless droves of volunteers who have helped put that wonderful city_ _—_ _Joplin_ _—_ _back together. Also dedicated to my wonderful, delusional husband, Cold, even though he did stand on the porch and stare at the sky like an idiot,_ _survived it, and to thus day, gloats about it. __

 _[Suggested listening: Toad the Wet Sprocket- "The Eye"]_

 **Tornado Warning**

 _[Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense: Tech Repairs, Lab 3]_

"You know," Mikey grumbled to Elysia, poking the orange lens of the tracker she was repairing. "It's just wrong that we're all stuck here, WORKING, while Donnie and Allie are kicking it in Branson."

"Workin'… _raiht_ …." The blonde muttered, carefully fitting a tiny screw into its socket. "Ya do REE-lize they ain't THEY-uh to have fun, raiht?" she pointed out, jabbing the screwdriver at him. "Allie's trainin' an' Don's helpin'. Buh-sides...it's SPRING. An' you ain't workin' HALF as hahd as you says you is."

"It's still not fair." He heaved a melodramatic sigh. "They're probably on a roller coaster right now—"

"—or in the shel-tah," Elysia scoffed.

"—or seeing a show, or riding a zipline…or something else totally awesome..." Snapping the lens back in place, she shoved the tracker back at him.

"Go easy on that thang, 'kay? Break it a-GIN, an' I'm'a start CHAH-jin ya."

"Thanks, Ell," Mikey gushed, yanking the protesting blonde into a bear hug. "You're the BEST! I totally owe ya, Babe." Without further ado, he bounded out the door. As she smoothed down her impossibly staticky hair, he ducked back in the room. "What's spring got to do with anything?"

 _[Branson, Missouri, the Willow Clan's compound]_

 _"DONATELLO!"_ Alesha shrieked over the roaring wind. _"GIT YER ASS IN THE FUCKIN' SHELTER, or I SWEAR TA GOD, I'm LOCKIN' YA OUT!"_ Don shot her a dubious glance over his shoulder, rain rendering his glasses useless.

 _"But this might be my only chance!"_ he argued, yelling to be heard over the escalating wind. _"It's a tornado in its natural state_ _—_ _WILD, not just a cyclone in a jar! We could learn so much from_ _—_ _"_

 _"You'd get yourself KILLED over THAT?!" she shrieked, struggling to stay on her feet._

 _"Think about the progress that could be made_ _—_ _We may be able to STOP THEM, if we learn enough!"_

 _"When Mama Nature's PMS'in', yer best bet is DUCK AN' COVER! GIT IN HERE!"_

 _"BUT_ _—_ _!"_

 _"OH my FUCKIN' GOD!" she swore at the top of her lungs. "DON, You're in TORNADO ALLEY, in SPRING!"_ she snapped, telekinetically dragging him toward the in-ground shelter. _"THE WHOLE SEASON'S spent under a WATCH or WARNIN'!_ _BE A DUMBASS NEXT TIME!_ " Though he'd intended to keep arguing, a large fallen limb came careening toward his head.

"WHOA!" he yelped, ducking into a roll that took him straight through the shelter's open hatch. Alesha slammed and barred the door behind him not a moment too soon. A moment's silence was shattered by a loud concussion as the limb smashed into the door.

"Just think, Donatello," Alesha glowered. "THAT would'a been YER HEAD." Washing her hands of the matter, she stormed toward a round table set up in the corner, grumbling about 'dumbass yanks' and 'Darwin Awards.' While Elder Raina monitored the weather radio, Elder Daisy, Alesha, Jasmine, and a visiting air-type BPRD agent named Avira started a game of poker. Most of the shelter's occupants were engaged in some game or other, Don realized nervously. After all, they might be down there for hours. With everyone around him playing chess and checkers, board games and card games, hangman and charades by lamplight, he felt more out of place than ever before.

At the poker table, Alesha folded. Her hand had sucked, and the reptilian genius' forlorn expression was more pressing than beating the pants off her adopted mother. Already, everyone else had found a way to occupy themselves...all except—Daisy cleared her throat, shooting a pointed glance at a young girl moping by the weather radio. Alesha recognized her—she'd just entered first grade, and was the only one of her siblings who hadn't developed the elemental abilities the Willow clan was known for. Her messy flax blonde pigtails drooping, she gazed longingly at a brightly colored boardgame in her lap. Alesha knew that look. Her mind made up, she pushed her pile of loot toward Daisy with a lop-sided smirk. As she walked away, Avira muttered to Daisy, "I'll see your Skittle an' raise ya a toffee."

"Hey, Mary," Alesha greeted the girl, crouching down at her side.

"Hi, Aunt Alesha," Mary mumbled back. "I hate storms."

"Does the thunder scare you?" Alesha squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. Storm phobias were rather common in Tornado Alley, even though most were kept under wraps out of embarrassment. People found it hard to believe that someone could be afraid of storms, after living in a place notorious for storms...of course, their ancestors had found it hard to believe that the sun didn't revolve around the earth.

"It's..." The girl faltered, blushing. "It's ju's so loud...an' no one'll play with me. Why?" Alesha's dark brown eyes connected with Donatello's hazel-green ones over Mary's head; though neither spoke, both knew what the other was saying. Sure enough, the hulking terrapin approached them, offering the girl a hand up.

"Mary? This's Donatello Hamato; he's a friend of mine from New York. What'd ya wanna play?" Mary's cornflower blue eyes lit up.

"You'll play with me?" she fairly squealed, gripping the box tightly. "You won't make fun of me...or...or pick on me?"

"We won't be mean," Don agreed. "You may have to teach me how to play that game, though...I've never played it before." When the weather calmed enough to leave the shelter that night, Don would swear he'd seen an evil glint in the girl's angelic eyes. Of course, he and Alesha had both lost several humiliatingly one-sided rounds of 'Candy Land' by then.

As everyone filed out of the shelter, Alesha and Donatello hung back with the occupants who'd won at some game or other. Winning earned them a discount on their next meal at Daisy's tavern, but it also meant they had to clean up the shelter, restock it, and get it ready for the next use. Unfair though some felt it to be, it prevented gloating, and encouraged humility, and the discount encouraged participation. When Don returned from toting trash to the burn barrels, he found his smart mouthed companion leaning against the hatch, waiting for him.

"Sorry I screamed at ya," she mumbled awkwardly, rubbing her neck. "I just...well..." Patiently, he waited. "Ya saw Sunny an' Sander's hometown—ya saw Joplin, years after that F-5 tore through. Ya weren't there when it happened—didn't see the aftermath." Struggling to organize her thoughts, she turned to lead him up the muddy path toward the cabin they were renting.

"I was visiting 'em that weekend—saw with m' own eyes what a tornado that size can do. I stayed there for three months, part of a team dispatched to help the More-Than-Human residents who'd been affected. What happened to the victims who wouldn't seek shelter, who stood on their porches watchin' the skies like idiots..." She shuddered, blushing at the warm arm Donatello tucked around her shoulders. Normally, whenever something unpleasant occurred, she'd respond with sarcasm and a well-practiced smirk—her chosen defenses against unnecessary drama—so he was startled when she dove into his arms, nearly landing him on his shell in the mud.

"Alesha?" he asked, concern in his voice as he held her close. "Koi, what's-"

"I don' fear death," she answered softly. "For years, I e'en longed for it—couldn't accept livin' on after my…after David died. Bein' killed by a tornado, though...it's not jus' death." Teary espresso brown eyes met his, fear evident in them. "I'd rather you hate me forever, an' die an old, happy turtle, than have ya and lose ya, with only DNA to identify you. If ya get caught in the eye…there might not…be…." She buried herself in his embrace, her lungs choked with fear.

Rubbing her back, he shushed her softly. "I didn't realize, Al," he said softly, the nickname tinted with affection and regret. "I'm sorry."

"I'm okay, Don," she finally answered, wearily relaxing in his embrace. "I was...I was jus' scared—scared you'd be hurt. And, well," she shrugged. When her wry, lopsided smirk appeared, he knew for certain that she'd be okay. "You know me. I don't do scared. Annoyed? Yeah. Angry? Fuck yes. Toddler tantrum? If ya take away ma coffee. Scared?" she scoffed. "Not in my vocabulary." Eyes bright with mischief, Donatello grinned.

"Is that so?" Not waiting for an answer, he swept her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of chicken feed, laughing at her panicked shrieks. "Simmer down, Braveheart," he teased, patting her plump rear as he hiked up the road to their cabin. "You'll wake the neighbors."

Once they were again curled up before the fireplace, her fear of heights was the furthest thing from his mind. More pressing matters included their eventual return to the BPRD, how to explain their blossoming relationship to the friends and family who probably still though they hated each other, and the lovely little sweet spot he'd discovered in the hollow of her neck. Someday, they'd return-they couldn't stay in Missouri forever. Someday, his brothers would find out, just as he had, that there was much more to the loud-mouthed, smart-assed Spirit Elemental than met the eye.

Someday, he hoped, someday she'd be his _for good_. Her adopted mother, Daisy, seemed to approve of him—of course, he was helping with her animals, so why wouldn't she approve of him? Elder Sebastian, Alesha's grandfather, also seemed fond of him now. Great minds do tend to think alike, after all. Even her adopted brother Thomas had professed that he "wasn't that bad," and Thomas tended to be antisocial on good days. He had no worries about her family…he could only hope his father would approve of his choice.

 _[Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense: Barracks 3, Splinter's Rooms]_

In a dark room sweet with the smoky perfume of incense and the tang of green tea, an aged humanoid rat knelt silently on a solitary cushion. An unexpected knock echoed through the room. Torn from his meditation, Splinter stood and hastened to answer the door. The hallway was empty, and if the motion activated lights were to be believed, had been empty for quite some time. Confused, he returned to his parlor, contemplating the occurrence.

As he went about fixing another cup of tea, the knocking returned, accompanied by a metallic ting, similar to the ring of a bell. Curiously, he turned to the set of handcrafted wind chimes Donatello had sent him for the Christmas holiday. Despite the still air, the clocking of hollowed out bamboo and soft tones from finely crafted metal chimes filled his parlor with sweet, serene music. Sure enough, the chimes swayed slowly, stirred by an unseen force.

His heart warmed, Splinter paused for a prayer of safety for his absent son...safety, serenity, and certainty. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't easy to find love, living in the sewers. Gods willing, though, the love Donatello had found there would last a lifetime.


	2. Denial: Don, Alesha, Raph, Dante

I do not own TMNT, Hellboy, or any mentioned music, movies, etc; I make no money from this. I DO own Alesha, Maggie, Dante, the Willows, and Amber...and coffee. LOTS of COFFEE.

A/N: This oneshot contains strong language, questionable (childish, absurd, and caffeine-provoked) humor, alcohol use, adults behaving immaturely, and mild UST.

Like all of my stories labeled "MIT," this standalone oneshot occurs during my Elementals series, and can be read with or without other parts of the MIT series. "Denial" takes place long before "Tornado Warning," and several months before Donatello and Alesha's stay in Missouri begins. The alliance between the BPRD and the Hamato family is still young, and the brothers are in training. Raphael and his mentor Dante are making progress, but Donatello was assigned to Alesha - for every step in the right direction, several more are taken in reverse. A word of warning—I blame this entire thing on COFFEE and SUGAR.

In the 2014 movie, when Raphael reveals that his shell's been cracked, Donatello uses the word 'Badass;' based on Raph's skeptical 'you're kidding, right?' expression, I find it hard to believe that Donnie's prone to frequent cursing. Maybe canon, may not be canon, but this explains the slightly crazy competition between him and Alesha in this oneshot. Finally, I do NOT promote cursing—it's a nasty habit, and tends to repel people, but it can be less nasty than other bad habits...for instance, shooting drano, kicking puppies, and posting excessive drama on social media. OY.

Hope y'all enjoy, and have a great day.

 **Suggested listening:** [Survivor – "I Can't Hold Back"] [Imagine Dragons – "Demons"]

 **Denial**

Friday's last mission before lunch had started out as a simple, no risk, in-and-out courtesy visit–so much so, that Amber had only sent Donatello and Maggie. Then the two-some stepped through the front door and found themselves in a cluster-fuck of the worst sort.

Records had indicated that they would be checking up on an inu-youkai couple who had missed several appointments with their caseworkers. When the Citizenship Support Division finally got them on the phone, the husband explained they'd been under a lot of pressure, and had lost track of time. Per CSD policy, a duo of BPRD agents had been sent in lieu of a CSD caseworker, just in case; their orders had said nothing about a hostage situation.

The wife had been snatched by the Purple Dragons, who had been recruiting from the emerging More-Than-Human population finally eligible for citizenship. Accompanying them had been a twelve foot troll, an incredibly ill-tempered lycan, and an Oni with an unusual fondness for spiked leather and throwing knives; every one of the three were on the BPRD's watch list. Rather than risk his mate's life, the sandy-haired youkai had bowed to their demands, certain the Bureau wouldn't step up if he told them the truth. After a dragon switched off their trackers and cellphones, smashed them, and threw them down a storm drain, they had no way to call for backup. To make matters worse, the Oni recognized Maggie, and was watching her like a hawk - at the slightest hint of distraction or concentration, she was left ducking kunai and punches. As they scrambled for options and tried to reason with their captors, another team unexpectedly burst into the small apartment: Mikey, Raph, Alesha, and Raph's mentor, a control type Spirit Elemental named Dante.

One tense, chaotic hour later, the captured criminals were carted off – many with several bullet wounds apiece and three with severe cases of the 'poison whatevers' around their necks, wrists, and ankles. The oni wasn't expected to live; even if he did wake up, though, the brain injury, broken back, and bullet wounds combined gave him a grim outlook. The youkai couple were unharmed and had been brought in for evaluation and statements, and the team's injuries had been treated. Four o'clock found everyone gathered in Alesha's apartment, weary, sore, and too tired to think. The kitchen counter had been partially buried under empty pizza boxes and dirty dishes from an impromptu meal.

Mikey and Maggie had taken over the tv and PS3, and were playing co-op on Diablo 3. Dante lay sprawled out in a recliner with his grungy ball cap over his eyes, snoring to beat the band. Raph lounged on the sofa with a couple cans of cheap beer, leafing through an automotive magazine he'd found on the coffee table. Alesha and Donatello sat around the kitchen table, armed respectively with a chilled IPA and a huge mug of coffee, half-heartedly considering the mess of parts strewn over it. It was still as cluttered as the first time he'd carried her unconscious self to her bed, but the contents had changed. Some things were missing, some new ones added, and if he wasn't mistaken, there were far more peppermint wrappers in the mix.

"Any luck?" Don asked, indicating the still taped shut roll-out dishwasher. He needed to top off his coffee, but his throbbing feet disagreed.

"Meh," Alesha answered. "Heatin' el'ment's cracked, an' the agitator parts vanished in Arkansas. Replacements're late. Pump's fixed, though, an' it doesn't leak anymore - step forward, step back an' all." Silence stretched on a while, punctuated only by Dante mumbling "moves like Jagga, Doll," in his sleep.

"Hey," Don pointed out something half-buried in a pile of hardware and peppermint wrappers. It looked like a fuse for some vehicle's something or other. "That's not from the dishwasher." Alesha scrutinized the small bit of plastic and metal, just as lazily as he did.

"Oh," she answered off hand. "No wonder the Kraken's radio kicked the bucket. Fergot to put the fuse in."

"That'll do it."

"Guess I better quit tellin' Vega it's her fault for traumatizin' it with Garth Brooks, huh?" Don shrugged lazily, tempted to poke the stray fuse from boredom, but too tired to actually do it.

"What a day," he mumbled after a long silence. "I'm pretty sure this is what excrement feels like."

"Donnie," Raph groused. "Just _say_ it— _ya feel like shit_. How HARD is dat?"

"Got ya beat, _Bo-dacious_ ," Alesha quipped at Don, the nickname startling him. "I feel like _dead_ excrement."

"Dead _road-killed_ excrement," he one upped her, his deer-in-the-headlights expression melting into a lazy grin. She'd been trying to cut back on her habit of cursing like a sailor, and had been getting creative with 'non-profane' curses; he doubted 'dead excrement' would have anymore lasting power than 'dead shit,' but whatever, E for Effort.

"Dead road-killed excrement _flattened by a diesel_."

"An' dere dey go again," Raph snarked as he turned a page. "I'm gonna need more beer at this rate."

"Dead road-killed excrement flattened by a diesel _with_ a _possum on top_."

"Yeah?" the brunette smirked, a competitive gleam in her dark brown eyes. " _Beat THIS!_ I feel like dead road-killed excrement flattened by a diesel with a possum on top, _cooked into a tar patty from a whole summer's worth of Texas heat durin' El Nino!"_ Don considered what he could possibly add on, while Raph, Mikey, and Maggie all gaped, Raph in disgust, the other two in awe.

"Ya two make me _SICK_ ," Raph grumbled. "Ya even _flirt_ like nerds." Alesha winced, her gaze fastening on the trio of wedding rings displayed in the curio cabinet.

Of course, Don thought tersely. The minute things started getting better between them, the elephant in the room got restless and it got tense again. Why did Don feel so intimidated by a dead man he knew next to nothing of, when she didn't even see him that way? His good humor squelched, Don picked through the pile of spare parts to hide his reaction. A moment later, he dug out a long, tangled charge cord, passing it to Alesha.

"Oh, hey!" she grinned, picking apart the knots. "I wondered where that went–my pager's almost dead."

"The things one can find if they clean the table, right?"

"Lemme know if ya find my sense'a humor," Raph snarked. "It ran away ta join the circus durin' the _dead shit_ contest. You two need some _SERIOUS THERAP_ Y."

"Ain't that a bit of the cat callin' the dog a _hairball_?" Alesha fired back, telekinetically flicking him between the eyes. "Ramona says she found you an' Vega in the sparrin' room in an… _incriminating situation_." Sure enough, Raph exploded. At his nonsensical sputtering, dark blush, and blustering glower, Mikey and Maggie burst into giggles.

"'AT AIN'T WHUT HAPPENED!" the hotheaded terrapin bellowed, startling Dante awake, and sending him to the floor in a heap. "Da BITCH _CHEATED!_ She _NUT-CHECKED me!_ "

" _Day-yam,_ " Dante muttered, hoisting himself back into the chair. "Touchy?"

"Young love," Alesha beamed smugly. "She took yer breath away AN' drove ya to yer knees _at the SAME TIME_ …I hear weddin' bells." He chucked the nearest throw pillow at her head. When she ducked, Don caught it in mid-air and lobbed it right back.

"Simmer, Big Guy," Dante grinned, peering slyly out from under the bill of his hat. "Only an _idjit_ starts a pilla' fight with a telekinetic troublemaker. Just ignore'er. As for _you_ , Al," She winced at the stern gleam in his blue eyes. " _Behave._ You _ain't_ too big for _a whoopin',_ an' yer _mother_ ain't too old to _give ya one._ " Humbled, she muttered an apology to her cantankerous guest, and ducked into the kitchen to refill drinks.

After three hours of lounging, whining, and horsing around, the party officially broke up. When eight rolled around, Donatello and Alesha sprawled out on the sectional, only half-way paying attention to the movie they'd put on. Honestly, Don couldn't even recall the title–when she'd bent down to put the DVD in, he'd been a little too distracted by her plump backside to hear a word she was saying. He didn't quite understand why, but Alesha kept shooting him unreadable glances. About halfway through the movie she ducked into the kitchen, staring into the open fridge, clutching the door in a white-knuckle grip. She spoke suddenly, never turning around.

"You okay?"

Startled, he turned to her; she hadn't moved a muscle, and her shoulders were drawn painfully tight. Where had that come from? "Are you?" A brief shudder ran through her shoulders. "Al–" Before he could get her full name out, she rushed to his side, pausing the movie as she sank into the sofa beside him.

Cocoa brown eyes focused on the worst of his wounds–a long, deep gash in his right shoulder that had needed several stitches. Naked worry clenched her brows, pain welling in her eyes. His heart thundered against his plastron when she absent-mindedly smoothed dusky fingertips over the gauze wrapped wound, stilling on the dark bruising surrounding it. Her throat clenched painfully, recalling the moment it happened. A mere moment sooner, and the airborne blade would've slit his throat; a moment later, and he'd have lost his arm below the shoulder. If she hadn't fainted from over-exertion when she had, that foul oni would have been dead rather than comatose.

"A…Alesha?" Donatello's confused stammer snapped her from her musings.

"Sorry," she muttered, smoothing the bandage tape back down as she silently contemplated the reason he and Maggie still lived.

"How did you know we needed backup?" he asked seriously. A slight wince confirmed his assumption that she'd sounded the alarm. "They ditched our trackers and phones. We weren't able to call for backup. So how did you know we needed help?" The dark-haired woman stared through his bandaged shoulder, off in another world.

"Ya know," she murmured. "Bein' an Elemental ain't all it's cracked up to be. People expect us to use our skills to the greatest advantage–like Spirits should control the stock market, an' prevent crime, or Earth types should prevent natural disasters, or somethin'. It's not so simple as all that."

As she had so often before, she glanced over at the curio cabinet, where the two wedding rings and engagement ring hung on a wooden ring holder carved into the shape of a bare tree. "If it were so easy as all that, Da– _He_ , would still be alive. I'd…" She scowled in frustration. "I'd've woken–I'd have been able...to…."

Nothing had changed during her time with the BPRD…she still couldn't even say her late husband's name without shutting down. She still couldn't talk about it, still let the painful memories define her life. Frustrated, she changed the subject.

"They meant to kill ya both," she stated dryly, remembering the premonition that had driven her frantic with fear. "Someone has a grudge against your brothers–"

"Who'd have thought," Don muttered.

"They'd expected Amber to send ya alone, or with one-a-yer brothers, not with Maggie. Even I hadn't expected to see Maggie with you."

"I think it was a last minute decision," he answered. "I'm cleared for unsupervised missions, so Amber planned to send Mikey with me. Then he put _ink_ in Amber's tea." He studied her troubled countenance, thinking back on the day Mikey's heart stopped…and why she'd been there when it happened. _Flooding, Electrocution, Mikey's death followed by his own,_ was what the premonition had shown…all on the night of her favorite team's first loss of the year. "I guess Notre Dame's gonna lose tonight?" he asked with a wry smile. Sure enough, she answered with her signature half-smirk.

"Lose?" she joked. " _Hell_ , those poor saps're gonna get _CREAMED_." For some inexplicable reason, she blushed heavily. "The premonition didn't show Maggie. Just…just you." Flustered at what she was admitting, she slipped back into the kitchen. Standing before the fridge, she silently considered the multitude of magnets commemorating the multitude of cities, states, and countries she'd traveled to while she was still doing more fieldwork than maintenance. To be able to use her element without exhausting herself and fainting, she thought wistfully. Oh, to have her stamina as it once was, and be off the backburner…what she'd give to see that day….

Don silently considered her words, and what he already knew of her premonitions. She'd told him before that she never saw anything about people she wasn't close to, unless they were related. He and Alesha were most certainly NOT related. Startled at what he'd realized, he recalled her words from the night he found out about the premonitions. ' _Fer such a genius, ya sure ain't got 'nuff sense to see what's right in front'a ya.'_

Had he really missed something so big, for so long? How could he have not realized? The premonitions had revolved around HIM! Stunned, but quite satisfied, he quietly slipped into the kitchen, pausing at her side. Aware she was no longer alone in the tiny kitchenette, she startled, whipping about to meet the suddenly hazel eyes almost a head higher than her own. Her heart raced as he reached up to her cheek, brushing an errant lock of dark brown hair behind her ear.

"Thank you." His voice had come softly, tinted with affection and warmth. She forced a swallow, her pulse racing. Instead of answering, though, she ducked backward, holding the fridge door open. Taking the hint, he glanced inside; tucked between leftover pizza and two neat rows of beer bottles, two cartons of soda waited expectantly.

Big Blue cream soda…his favorite. How HAD she known?

He turned back to her, inwardly grinning at her dark blush and how she gnawed her lip into submission. She stiffened when he cupped her cheek in his large palm, brushing the pad of his thumb across the emerging blush. "Don…?" she attempted hesitantly, confused. He wasn't her husband…he wasn't David…so why did her heart feel ready to burst from her ribcage for the whole world to see? When he curled his free arm around her, pulling her into an affectionate embrace, all thought of who he was and who he wasn't went right out the proverbial window. She nestled into his arms with a contented sigh. Neither noticed the door of the fridge drift closed.

A loud, frantic knock at the door shattered the moment, sending them scrambling apart. Flustered, Alesha rushed to answer the door. Mikey greeted her on the other side, inviting himself in.

"Hey, Allie!" he greeted cheerfully. "Have you seen Donnie? He didn't show up for–oh." Finally noticing his elder brother in the kitchen, focusing unusually hard on an unopened can of his favorite soda. "There you are, Bruh! Leo's been frantic, trying to get ahold of you–he says you aren't answering your phone!" Don rolled his eyes.

"I see you forgot to tell him the Dragons CHUCKED it down a DRAIN."

"Oh…" Mikey grinned sheepishly. "Yeah…they did, didn't they? Sorry, Donnie." At that moment, he noticed that his brother and Alesha were avoiding one another's gazes, shifting awkwardly on their feet. "Did I interrupt something?"

"NO!" they answered in unison, then blushed at the awkward moment. Not at all convinced, Mikey scrutinized their postures and guilty expressions. They were hiding something…and he had a feeling he knew exactly what they were hiding. 'About time,' he thought smugly.

"Know what?" he said suddenly. "I don't even wanna know. I'll just go tell Leo you're busy."

"We're not-!"

"It's not-!"

"Have a great night, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't!" As he ducked into the hallway, Alesha chased after him.

"What exactly _wouldn't_ you do, _Asshat?!_ " she barked at his retreating back. In the kitchen, Donatello heaved a frustrated sigh. So much for _no cursing_...Mikey was sure to tell their brothers he'd walked in on something–the odds of that 'something' being much juicier than reality were over 90%...9% chance that Mikey would forget before he got home. The odds that he'd do the mature thing and keep it to himself were about as high as the odds of Raph and Vega getting along. He'd be hearing about this for WEEKS.

When Alesha returned, locking the door with a grumble, coffee brown met greening hazel through scratched lenses. The moment was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving a pang of regret and awkward silence in its wake.

Later that night, she sat at her computer armed with an Imperial Stout and a bowl of pretzels. Messenger had been pulled up, but none of her friends had signed on. Missouri was silent-Sunny's photography business was booming, and Sander had been working overtime at his construction job. Japan was silent as well, to her surprise. Dakota hadn't been online, nor Bernadette or her mat-haired brother "Beezus." Even her step-sister Rosemary and her cousin Nessa had been mysteriously silent, and those two never went off the radar—they practically needed a twelve step program for Spotify! Dakota's niece Crystal had gotten online just long enough to set her current location to "Ginger Town" and say "Frozen needs to die, and NO, I don't wanna build a fuckin' snowman!" Alesha snickered at that, certain the cryo-kinetic Elemental was being pestered again. Her grandfather, Sebastian, had been online for hours, but she really didn't feel like another lecture from the Spirit Hybrid elder. She was lecturing herself enough for both of them, after all.

Her mind drifted back to the brief moment in the kitchen, when Donatello held her so closely, so tenderly…as though she were something he'd long cherished….

 _No._ It didn't bear thinking about. She was a widow, a woman existing in a time not her own; she couldn't bear the idea of outliving another mate, and thanks to the Willows' screwed up, magic-tainted genetics, she WOULD. Nearly everyone back home believed her _dead_ , and she was happily married to her work. She existed only to serve the BPRD, now—saving the world one maintenance form at a time… _SIGH_. Still, it was easier to step back, keep Donatello at arms' length, and support him the best she could, than to let him in, and hurt him by doing so.

As she was about to sign off and at least make an effort to find the sleep she knew wouldn't come, someone signed on. Scanning her contacts list, a grin broke out on her face. 'BeatItWithAStick'…the mysterious more-than-human she'd met through her blog…just the person she wanted to talk to. As the two chatted back and forth, her stress from the day melted away. She'd never considered just who the person was, and was content to assume he was just a fellow nerd who liked turtles, purple, inventing advanced machinery, and working on computers. A mere corridor away, a certain purple-clad terrapin sat at his desk, chatting with the mysterious "ClassifiedVioletWoods."

'If only I could meet this Vi Woods,' Donatello thought wryly, relating a joke he'd heard from Mikey that afternoon. Violet's late husband had been a werewolf, and she'd never judged him for his eccentricities. Alesha had never judged him, either, and was clearly as attracted to him as he was to her, but she was either unable or unwilling to move beyond the husband she'd lost years before. He'd seen tonight - seen it in her eyes; she cared for him, wanted him, but she'd still pushed him away just as she always had. Vi, on the other hand, was an open book, even though she admittedly changed names around to protect those she loved. If he could meet Vi, could get to know her in person, could he learn to love her, or would he push her away, as Alesha pushed him away?

When Don and Alesha both signed off the next morning, he stumbled off to the shower, and she turned to fix a cup of borderline-toxic coffee, considering words that began with the letter "D." David, death, Donatello, development, daylight, _dumbass_ ….

Night was over and day just begun, but work waited for no one, whether they'd slept or not – especially at the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. Though the snarky Spirit type still resisted the idea, it was only a matter of time before her resolve wavered, and her troubled friendship with Donatello became much, much more.

 **A few terms that may fill in blanks:**

 **A case of the 'poison whatevers'** – an allergic reaction, usually occurring as a rash that itches like Hell, hurts like fuck, and spreads like wildfire. Can result from exposure to any number of irritants, such as poison ivy/oak/sumac, or in some folks, ragweed.

 **Asshat** \- A lovely little nonsense insult. In our household it is used as a humorous combination of "Darlin'" and "Pain in my ass."

 **Bodacious** \- Commonly recognized as surfer lingo, its meaning is something like "'excellent, admirable, or attractive,' or 'audacious in a way considered admirable.' Consider the fact that Donatello fights with a _bo staff._

 **The CSD/Citizenship Support Division** \- A fictional government agency existing solely in the world my Elementals series is set in. After the BPRD successfully secured "non-human entities capable of communication and civilized/peaceful existence" the option of applying for US citizenship, the CSD was founded to handle such affairs. CSD caseworkers help applicants through the process, counsel them as needed, and assist with necessary life skills, thus helping to weed out any applicants who might need help, protection, etc.

 **Elemental** – A person who was born with the ability to control/manipulate one of the five elements–water, air, fire, earth, and spirit–or in the case of electric and ice, a combination of two elements. Those who are a part of the Willow clan also have other oddities—their cellular growth is about half the rate of the average human, thus they grow slowly, age slowly, heal slowly, etc. Because of the extended lifespan, all affected Willows are taught from day one that their survival relies on how well they can adjust and fit in. Amber Jr. completely fails at this, while Jasmine and Alesha nail it to an extent.

 **IPA** – Imperial Pale Ale. Not for the faint of gullet. Like Imperial Stout, it tends to make people who are used to lighter beers violently ill.

 **The Kraken** – An armoured vehicle Alesha built from a half-size school bus. It is frequently used by agents for transport, since the garbage truck method was deemed obsolete.

 **Lycan** \- A mythical being said to possess the ability to shapeshift into three forms: a wolf, a human, and a hybrid of the two. The Hybrid form is more powerful, but is difficult to maintain.

 **MTH/More Than Human** \- A generalized term used for any sentient inhuman entity, including those with human blood. The term was coined by Jasmine Willow, the liason between the BPRD and the Willow clan, Amber Jr's younger sister, Professor Broom's younger daughter, and awkwardly enough, Hellboy's girlfriend/. :S

 **Oni** \- Oni are a kind of yōkai from Japanese folklore, variously translated as demons, devils, ogres or trolls. They are often depicted as humanoid beings with sharp claws, wild hair, horns, and unusually colored skin, and are said to carry iron clubs. The oni Donatello's team fought is an oddball who claims "clubs are overrated."

 **Type** – Can be used to describe either the element such a person is gifted with, or in the case of Earth and Spirit, a specialty. Earths include Nature, Terra, and Hybrid types, and Spirits include Control, Sensory, and Hybrid types.

 **Youkai** – A being from Japanese mythology, often interpreted as a 'demon.' An inu-youkai can be described as a 'dog demon.' If not familiar with the terms, just Google 'Inu Yasha, Sesshomaru.'


End file.
